Cook it all better
by Mattora
Summary: Usopp is sick, Sanji is feeling guilty. For Famigirl


** Cook it all better

* * *

**

'- some pea soup? You like it- Okay, not, then maybe some ice cream? Lemon sherbet sounds great, doesn't it?!'

Sanji sighed as Usopp shook his head, taking a pull of his burnt out cigarette, being at his culinary wit's end. Chewing on his lip he tried to remember any other favorite dish of his dark haired crew mate that was suitable for a sick person, but Usopp had turned all of them down. Sanji was sure he had tried them all - even the ones he hated preparing for the guys, for they were beneath his dignity as a first-rate cook.

Usopp coughed weakly, trying to roll onto his side to curl up into a fetal position, shivering badly. It was just a some tonsillitis Chopper had assured them, and as long as he stayed in bed and rested, he would be fine; still Usopp had managed to get so sick even Zoro and Nami had stopped teasing and scaring him.

'You should drink some more tea, it will warm you up- hey, you need to at least drink something! Or do you want to stay sick?'

Usopp glared at the cook, but did not try to sit up, instead pulling the blanket half over his head so only his black curls were to see, just wanting to be left alone. Soon his labored breathing got even, and he fell into an uneasy sleep, rolling from one side to the other, whining softly. Sanji picked up the damp cloth which had slipped from his forehead and lay it on the desk, worried by his friend's condition.

The cook's thoughts were mostly occupied with recipes and preferences - Blancmange? Mousse chocolate, or rather vanilla? Puree? _No_! Sanji almost jumped from his seat, beaming. Fish fondue! Why hadn't he thought of this earlier? Usopp loved fish and – for a split second the cook wanted to wake his sleeping mate,to make his mouth water by telling him of the delicious fish dish he would prepare just for him, but realizing immediately how inane waking his friend to tell him about food would have been.

Sadly he chewed on the butt of the cold cigarette, watching over Usopp's fitful sleep, wishing he could ease his sickness; but nothing he had done had helped him to get better. Maybe it was even his fault that he had gotten this sick, which was much the reason why he was sitting by his bedside all night, thinking about the ideal nourishment for a throat-sick person.

Usopp had been a pest all morning, complaining even more than usual (if that was possible, as Robin had quietly pointed out), not finishing any of his duties and whining all the time that it was too hot on , the work too hard, everybody too mean and even the food was disagreeable with him, at which point Sanji had snapped and had yelled at him, telling him to shut up and either eat the dish or leave his kitchen- which the marksman had done, slamming the door behind him.

When the marksman did not appear for dinner, Sanji had gone looking for him, foaming that the loudmouth was being serious about boycotting his wonderful cuisine; he found him deep asleep on top of his bed, pale and moaning in his sleep. As the cook had touched his shoulder he felt that their resident habitual liar had quite a temperature and was probably sick, a suspicion Chopper quickly confirmed.

His tonsils had swollen to quite an impressive size, preventing Usopp from complaining anymore (which was a blessing) but also from swallowing anything pain free. Still, he had taken the bitter tincture Chopper brought him, and had drunken some herbal tea, but could not be thrilled by even the most elaborate creations Sanji could come up with, just shaking his head at every suggestion.

The cook was contrite about the way he had treat his friend; he knew him better than anybody else on the ship, and should have been alarmed by his earlier behavior. True, Usopp got on his nerves the better of the time, but he never was this annoying, not without a good reason. On top of it, he had banned him from the kitchen, the maximum penalty on a ship and impossible rude – and just because Usopp had criticized his cooking! Had he forgotten that he was preparing meals for people to actually eat them? The highest art of cooking was to please difficult eaters, not to shoo them away. What a bad cook and friend he was...

Sanji dipped the cloth in cold water and placed it on Usopp's feverish brow, careful as to not wake him. Once his throat got better, he surely would be hungry, impatient to regain his strength and get out of bed; and then Sanji could cook for him whatever he wanted, be it flesh, fish or exotic fruit.

The master chef smiled satisfied, leaning back in his chair. Soon he would become a better friend and cook; he was happily looking forward to having Usopp sit at his kitchen table again, telling nonsense whilst he prepared meals for him.. And that next time, Sanji would give Usopp no reason to get up from a full plate.

'Bon appetite... Get well soon, okay?'

For a moment the marksman looked like he was smiling in his sleep, as if dreaming of delicious dinners to come.


End file.
